Safe and Sound
by Alastrine the Light of Dawn
Summary: With the recent finding of the lost continent of Pandaria, Garrosh Hellscream's pride is hurting more than just the Horde. A young blood elf warrior sets off to the newly discovered land in an effort to get King Varian Wrynn on her side. Will the two factions come to terms long enough to stop Hellscream, or will the world be plunged into another war? (Rewrite of an old fanfic)
1. Prologue: Bowing to Fate

Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. It belongs to Blizzard. I also do not own most of the characters in this story, except for the Sunfeather sisters, and a few others that will be revealed in later chapters.

Note: This is a rewrite of one of my other fanfictions. It will take a huge and different direction from the original fanfiction. The characters will remain the same, however. I apologize in advance for this chapter. It was actually two separate prologues, and since I couldn't choose which one to use, I tried mashing them together. I hope it will suffice though!

* * *

Life was once easy.

It was once full of happiness, once full of laughter and naivety and the simple careless attitude towards anything serious. Life was once what it simply was; take it day by day, and try not to cause too much trouble. Things change, though. Life changes for the better or worse, and the people in it change too. Some move along with it and and get lost, only to resurface in memories, while others last forever. Life is a spiral; a vortex which lead one in many directions.

Fate is another story.

Fate comes and interrupts life. It is swift, undetectable, unrelenting, and inevitable. It is given to one before birth. It is prophesied and swoops in at the worst moments imaginable. It is said that one will experience fate four times in a lifetime if they are unlucky enough to be given one. It is able to destroy and shake the lives of those it is given to. One does not choose fate... fate chooses you.

Three years before moving to Orgrimmar, Faynestra Sunfeather lived alone with her younger sister in Falconwing Square. It was generally a quite place, although every few weeks huge shipments would come in and out of the town from the adjacent Silvermoon City. She was still young then, forced to care for her sister after the oldest Sunfeather sibling had gone off to the Icecrown Glacier in an attempt to slay the notorious Lich King. It was a rough time in her life, but it helped shape her into a piece of a puzzle that _nearly_ fit in with the big picture.

"_Get off of me," Fayne's angered voice had snarled, pushing the smaller figure off of herself. It thumped to the cold floor before standing back up to loom over the bed. _

"_Come on Fayne, it's nearly noon! Aeldon is expecting you!" Fayne shot open an eye. Instantly, they made contact with her little sister. Her bright green eyes sparkled eagerly down at Fayne, and one of her pointed ears twitched excitedly. _

"_Aeldon Sunbrand?" Fayne questioned, raising an eyebrow. Her sister nodded quickly, leaning down a few inches from her face, tugging at her shoulders. _

_"He said it was real important. I don't think you should keep him waiting, you know. He only ever sends for people he wants to mentor."_

_Fayne sat up from her previous position, causing her sister to snap straight up with her. _

_"I know that, Corriana." She pushed her aside once more before placing both feet on the floor. Glaring back at her sister, she stood up and casually walked to where her armour had been ungracefully hurled the night prior. _

"_Anvinna wrote us a letter," Corriana piped up again from behind her, causing Fayne to roll her eyes. She was in a foul mood after her much needed rest was so rudely interrupted. _

_"That's nice. Don't care though," she muttered loud enough for her sibling to hear. Her older sister was out fighting the Scourge in Icecrown, leaving Fayne with the duty to juggle a job, training, and an annoying brat at once. _

_As she began donning her nearly outgrown plate set, her sister once again spoke up. "She's been turned into a death knight, Fay." At that, Fayne's eyes widened. She dropped the glove she had in her hand. It fell to the ground, clambering loudly. Turning to her sister, the blood from her face drained._

"_Give me the letter. Now," she hissed. Corriana nodded quickly, tears falling from her eyes as she scrambled out the door. Fayne could do nothing but stand there, silently asking the gods why everything just had to happen to her. Her sister had returned, shoving the letter into Fayne's shaking hands and taking a few cautious steps back. Unfolding it, her eyes darted down the page rapidly. _

_As soon as she was done, she let it fall from her hands. _

_"Why didn't you say something before! I couldn't give a damn about Sunbrand and his entourage knowing our sister has been changed into an abomination!" She screamed while pointing an accusing finger at Corriana. She stepped closer to her little sister as she cowered backward, hitting the wall. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to plea with Fayne. _

_A hand grabbed her fist before it could hit the wood beside Corriana's head. Staring at the hand and following it up to its owner, she glared into the cold and angry eyes of Aeldon Sunblade. _

"_Faynestra, how could you? I was worried sick about you, you were so late... I didn't think you'd be late because of this," he said accusingly, dropped her hand. Fayne scowled, ripping her hand to her side. _

_"I wasn't going to hit her! Don't even try to do this to me again, Sunblade." Aeldon shook his head very slowly, showing his disappointment. _

"_Angry... always so angry. It isn't fair that you take all the blame out on your poor little sister. She hasn't done anything wrong. It was you who witnessed the orc slay your mother, not her." _

_Her blood boiled. "Get your disgusting existence out of my house before I kill you," she snarled at the man. His eyes widened in fake shock. _

_"Threatening now, are we? I'll see that every experienced trainer in Azeroth will hear about this. Good luck trying to succeed. You've made a deadly mistake," he said calmly before leaving. _

_After watching him go, Fayne staggered to the wall by her left, collapsing into it. "How _dare_ he bring up mother," she hissed, the emotional pain of an old memory running through her head. She weakly stabbed a blade into the old wood before falling to the ground. Her breath was ragged and she blinked quickly, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. She bowed her head and leaned her forehead on to the wall, closing her eyes._

"_Go, Corriana. You shouldn't see me like this," she whispered bleakly, a tear escaping against her will. She ignored the scuffling of small feet as the dreaded memories flooded back to her._

_She was a small child back when it happened. She and her mother had planned the day weeks ahead; her baby sister was finally going to be christened to the Light in a matter of days, and they would collect flowers for her. They had lived in Lordaeron at the time; her mother was a high elf extremely skilled in arcane magic, recruited by the humans to help aid their alliance with her skills._

_Unknown to the young Fayne, the orcish Horde were scheduled to attack the land any day. Her mother had known about it, but detested the thought of having to cancel her daughter's well awaited plans. She brought Fayne to a flower patch she was sure was safe from any attack. Sadly, she was mistaken._

_In a matter of moments, her mother spotted a lone orc. Thinking quickly, she forced her child to hide under her robes, out of the orc's sight and hopefully, attacks. Fayne did as she was told without questioning her mother. _

_"Don't make a sound, little one, no matter what you hear. Do whatever I tell you," her mother whispered. Underneath the robe, Fayne heard a deep, loud voice yell something in an unknown tongue. "Stay away," her mother yelled back. The voice... laughed. Fayne shut her eyes tightly and grabbed one of her mother's feet as she heard footsteps thunder towards them. _

_Her mother gasped in pain. Fayne held on tighter, almost screaming. She was so scared, but obeyed her mother and didn't make a sound. Unfamiliar noises were being made above her. Her mother screamed in agony. Fayne bit her lip in order to keep from doing the same. _

_"F-fayne," her mother rasped. "I'm going to fall on you. Don't move, and don't make a sound. Just remember that I love you and your sisters so, so much. Keep them safe and make me proud, like you always have." Right on queue, she felt her mother's legs shake and buckle. She collapsed onto the ground, as well as onto Fayne. _

_The voice laughed once more. Fayne heard fabric rub against fabric, and felt something rummage into her mother's cloth robe near where her head rested against the grass. She heard the sound of coins jingling before the noise of fabric once more. She listened as footsteps slowly retreated away from her. Hours later, she still didn't move. Her mother hadn't said a word, nor moved, and Fayne realized the agonizing truth._

_Betraying her mother, she let out a quiet wail as the weight of loss dropped onto her. Fayne scrambled out from under her mother's robe, and scurried to her face. It was pale as snow, with a few drops of red scattered around it. She reached a shaking hand out to touch the cold flesh of he mother's beautiful face. With jagged breaths, her eyes combed down the the bloody mess that was once her abdomen. Sucking in a terrified breath, Fayne scrambled up and ran. _

_She ran for what seemed like hours, blindly to wherever her small feet took her. _

After the Lich King was defeated and the Scourge threat subsided, a new threat awoke in its wake. Deathwing the Destroyer emerged from Deepholme to thrust Azeroth into a living hell. It was now Fayne's turn to take up action to help rid the world of his evil presence. Corriana was old enough to care for herself. Fayne took up the front of the battle and helped aid the Horde and the Alliance destroy the Destroyer. She returned home as a experienced and mature woman.

The second stand-off with fate came when Fayne moved to Orgrimmar, and it took the largest toll on her... or so she thought.

Grasped between fate's thumb and pointer fingers, Fayne found herself in a constant felhaze, and with it she transitioned into a "blood" elf. Of course, she did not choose to become as addicted to fel magic as she was. She was given doses of the crippling substance in an effort to create a new legion of "fel warriors". Every time she saw her reflection, she was reminded that this was not who she was. The glowing green eyes made her feel ashamed of herself for being so weak. She was caught in a battle between mind and substance; the power of a mixed and modified fel magic ultimately won over each and every time.

That was until her mind finally conquered over her dependent body.

To say the least, Garrosh Hellscream was quite surprised over the fact Fayne had the mental strength to overcome his prized fel energy's effects over her body. All substances were hard to get over, fel magic being no exception. Once hooked on it, it was nearly impossible to get out of its deadly grasp. Many times, the need for another fix and being denied one was enough to drive a user to death. The rehabilitation period causes more harm than the drug itself.

Of course, Fayne believed that her stint with Hellscream during those few years was fate's sick joke, and that was it over and done with. She was still leading a naive life then; one could not run from fate. Fate was appointed to one and would follow them to their grave. Those years spent in a fel-induced stupor had not hardened her at all. She was still a child at heart. Fate had not yet broken her into the real world.

Now, Fayne was faced with fate for the third time in her life.

* * *

Slender fingers combed snares and debris out of the mass of pale blonde hair they were currently entwined in. She hummed a cheerful tune as she ripped a twig out of the strands of hair knotted around it.

"Hey!" The owner of the hair hissed, her hand instinctively flying up to her scalp to swat the other pair of hands away. She turned her body around to glare at the blood elf causing more harm than good. "Do you possess even a grain of delicacy somewhere in that body of yours?"

The elf in question smiled innocently.

"I have better things to do tonight than to sit here pulling a forest out of your hair. You're a warrior, Fayne. Bow to fate." She motioned with her fingers for her sister to turn back around. Fayne complied, crossing her arms.

"How does one manage to get leaves and twigs caught in their hair in _Durotar_?" The elf muttered. Fayne rolled her eyes.

"I was in Ashenvale," she grumbled, wincing as another twig was pulled from her hair with force.

"Oh?" The blood elf questioned, raising an eyebrow as she unwrapped a strand of hair from a pine cone. Fayne grabbed the elf's wrist, halting her. She turned around once more to face her.

"Corriana, they're massacring the night elves! I was sent up there to help, but I couldn't go along with it." Her voice dropped to a whisper, wary of any unseen ears listening. "I don't see the point to this war. We should be joining as one to take out common evils, not tearing each others throats out over lumber!"

Corriana nodded slowly, thinking over the information. She was entirely aware of the situation in Ashenvale; she had been sent up to infiltrate the night elves' camps months ago.

"It's unwise to speak of such matters here," Corriana pointed out. "You're walking into a bear's den covered in blood. Garrosh has eyes all around the city. You must learn to keep your mouth shut, or something may happen to you again." Fayne scowled at the way she worded her warning.

"Dear sister, I can count the days I have left with my hands. I am not a child. I am fully aware of the threats that follow me, snapping at my ankles." She looked sternly into the younger elf's eyes, silently asserting her domination in the conversation. Corriana sighed, lifting her hands back up to her sister's hair to pull out the remaining pieces of foliage. Fayne slumped back into her chair, her back facing her younger sibling. She muttered a few words under her breath about Garrosh.

"What was that?" Corriana asked calmly as she picked up a fine-toothed comb and brought it to Fayne's scalp.

"I was contemplating what I'd do to Garrosh if I was ever left alone with him. There are _so _many good ways to kill him," Fayne replied nonchalantly, clearly unworried whether anyone else heard her or not. For this, she received a quick smack to the head.

"Fine, fine, I'm done talking. Enjoy the silence, sister dearest," Fayne muttered. She received a gentle hum of agreement from Corriana. Fayne shut her eyes and let Corriana run the comb through her hair as she sat back and let herself drown in her thoughts.

A new continent was unshrouded from the mists that kept it hidden for ages. Hellscream had sent a fleet over in order to claim the land in the name of the Horde. That was nearly a month ago.

Fayne wasn't surprised her name was not posted on the command board in front of the Hold, seeing that the Warchief wanted her head separated from her shoulders.

Each night, she dreamt of what the new land and its inhabitants could possibly be like. She longed to see it for herself, but she knew that was unlikely as long as Hellscream ruled the Horde.

Fayne slipped in and out of consciousness as her sister continued to brush her hair soothingly. While one part of her mind created images of the misted continent, the other drifted to Garrosh.

He had boldly decimated Thermore, creating an even stronger tension between the Horde and the Alliance. It was almost as if he had a death wish. Fayne snorted softly at the thought. Even if he didn't, she hoped she could grant it for him anyways. If he ever went down, he'd make sure he pulled the Horde with him. At this point, he was a fuse waiting to find a flame.

His mind was becoming corrupted by his pride.

* * *

I really hope this has given enough information about Fayne's past to clear any confusion up before it begins. I'm sorry about the shortness of it, I couldn't think of anything else to really write. I'm also deeply sorry about the random/confusing flashbacks and time switches. Please let me know if it needs to be changed. Thanks for reading! More will be up soon.


	2. Chapter 1: Salty Air, Crashing Waves

Corriana took to hastily tidying her small home before her sister arrived. The house was cramped but accommodated her and Tiana, her large pet worg, just fine. Situated between two troll families, the huntress had called the Valley of Spirits home shortly after Fayne had moved to Orgrimmar. She had read about trolls prior to moving to Kalimdor, and was completely fascinated by the mere thought of blue and green pigmented skin. She was offered several homes in Orgrimmar, but chose the one closest to the tall race.

A knock sounded at the door. Tiana growled loudly, but stopped as soon as her owner shushed her. Crossing the room in a few steps, the huntress unlocked the door and swung it open. Instead of a short, blonde-haired blood elf, she was met by a tall, green-headed troll.

"Aye mon, how you doin'?" The huntress gave a small smile. Her neighbour, Juma, had been pursuing her since she had moved into the house beside him. She was confused as to why he felt some degree of attraction to her, as blood elven standards made her undesirable to her own race.

"_It's da freckles an' da face, mon,"_ The troll had told her one day when she had gathered up enough courage to ask. _"I ain't eva seen freckles on an elfie before, an' ya face be nice an' round."_ Corriana's 'nice and round' face grew a dark crimson after hearing that.

"Can I help you with anything? Is your mother sick again? I can get her a potion-" Corriana sputtered out before Juma raised a three-fingered hand as a gesture of silence.

"Nah mon, I was jus' wonderin' if ya wanted to come for a walk, is all," the troll replied, flashing her a charming smile. The she-elf's cheeks became hot.

"I'm sorry, but I'm expecting my sister shortly," she replied awkwardly. She watched Juma's face fall and she frowned. "Maybe some other time, okay? I'm just sort of... busy right now."

The troll nodded slowly, sensing a lie in her response, but didn't question it.

"Alright mon. Mebe some otha time den," he muttered, stretching to his full height. The elf gave him an apologetic look as he turned around. Watching him descend the stairs, she shut her door once more. She nearly tripped over Tiana, who had unknowingly been standing by her side when she answered the door.

"I'm sorry baby," she crooned, ruffling the fur on top of the worg's head. In response, she growled softly, nuzzling her face into the elf's side. Corriana motioned for her to follow as she sat down on the tattered couch in the centre of the room. Tiana took her place by her feet, curling up into a ball on the dusty floor. The blood elf sighed, moving into a more comfortable position. She sensed her sister would take longer than she said she would.

"Knock knock!" Fayne said loudly as she swung her sister's front door wide open. Like usually, the large worg curled up near the door began barking ferociously towards the intruder.

"Fayne!" Came the reply from further into the house. "Stop doing that! You know it riles Tiana up!" The warrior grinned, kicking the door closed with her foot. She walked towards the bristling worg, patting her on the head roughly.

"Hey mutt," she muttered, plopping herself onto her sister's couch.

Corriana appeared from the home's small corridor, dressed in what appeared to be her nightwear. "Sorry to wake you, sleeping beauty," the elf said with a wolfish grin. "Bad time?" Her sister narrowed her eyes.

"I expected you to come earlier. I've been in here all day waiting," she replied sharply, getting a fake look of shock from the older elf.

"I'm sorry," Fayne said honestly, shrugging her shoulders. "I was getting last-minute supplies." Her sister's face became grim.

"Supplies? Where are you going?"

Fayne gave her sister a charming smile."Pandaria, the land of mist!"

The huntress looked shocked. "Pandaria, the new continent? How the hell do you think you'll get there? Garrosh probably banned you from going there!"

Fayne snorted. "Hellscream can't _ban_ me from going anywhere. Besides, he's not the only one recruiting forces." Her sister raised her eyebrows. "Oh really? Who else?"

The warrior smiled once more. "Lor'Themar Theron. I sent him a letter a while ago asking if I could join his forces. Surprisingly, he said yes."

Her sister nodded slowly. "Yes... surprisingly. I thought he hated our family after the whole Sunblade fiasco," the huntress thought out loud.

Fayne shrugged. "I guess not. He seemed nearly eager to have me go over there. Now, about that..."

The younger elf took a seat on the couch Fayne sat on, turning so that she faced her sister. She had become pale as she waited for the warrior to speak. "I'll be gone for who knows how long. I'll need you to look after my house while I'm gone. Just check in whenever you want to. If I don't come home-"

Corriana cut her off. "You _will_ come home, understand me? I don't want any of this death talk under my roof, or anywhere for that matter!"

The warrior sighed. "Corri, I can't promise my return. By the Sunwell, I could get eaten by some carnivorous plant native to Pandaria for all we know. We need to plan out alternatives. Nothing is set in stone, especially not now." The younger sister nodded.

"I suppose... I just don't want to think about losing you. You're all I have left, Fayne," her voice cracked on the last word. Fayne gave her sister a reassuring smile. "Don't be silly! You'll still have that flea bag," she said, gesturing at Tiana. The elf's light humour worked. Corriana gave a tiny but definite smile.

"Like I was saying, in case I don't return, sell my house and keep the gold. You know my bank information too, and some of the secret places I've hidden some gold. Back to better thoughts. I'm leaving tomorrow morning. Theron's fleet is coming around here to pick up myself and a few others. If the ship makes it there, I'll send you a letter whenever I can. I hope it'll have a way of getting to you. Really, all you can do is wait. I guess if nothing reaches you in eight months, consider me dead."

The huntress nodded sorrowfully. "Alright. I guess you should get some sleep. Be safe, sister, and best of luck. Don't do anything stupid," she whispered, reaching across the couch to embrace her sibling. Fayne enveloped her in a tight bear hug, rocking her gently before breaking the hold. Standing up, she gave a final ruffle to Tiana, and one last wave to her sister before opening the door and stepping out into the dark night.

* * *

"_Sun_feather! I haven't seen you since you moved to this horrid Orcish city! My, you haven't aged a _day_." Fayne groaned internally at the thinly hidden insult. To blood elves, and any other race with a long lifespan, the phrase was used in a way to say one was childish, not that their youthful image was fantasized about. The warrior plastered the most realistic looking fake smile she could onto her face and turned around.

Standing in all her four foot nine inch glory was Laela Dawnrunner, one of Silvermoon's well-known "socialites". Her height seemed to dwarf even greater as she stood beside Orgrimmar's intimidatingly tall front gate. Bound in a dangerously revealing plate set that had been crafted to fit her in an almost suffocating matter, the elf's pale white complexion stood out against the dark purple armour like a black bear in Dun Morogh.

Her naturally black hair had been dyed a dark shade of red, Fayne noted, making her exaggerated features even more unflattering. The last time the warrior had seen the paladin, her hair had been a dubious platinum blonde. The _naturally_ blonde elf noticed immediately that whoever had dyed her hair had done a poor job with her eyebrows; they were at least three shades lighter than the dark auburn curls piled in an eccentric way atop of her head. It was, however, noteworthy that they at least matched the crimson finger nail polish she wore.

"Laela, it has been quite a long time, hasn't it?" Fayne retorted, watching as the paladin's face contort into one of displeasure. The she-elf gave a dull sigh, signalling that the conversation had changed direction into one she did not want to continue. Not faltered, Fayne's eyes travelled down Laela's form once more in the most obvious way possible. The paladin shifted under her scrutinizing gaze; the blonde pretended to have noticed and brought her gaze back up to Laela's.

"I see someone has gifted you a shiny new set of armour... Bemarrin's doing, I suspect?" The edge of the warrior's lips twitched as she watched the paladin gulp.

"Y-yes, he was informed I would be going on the journey to the new continent and wanted me to have something to remember him by," the paladin stammered, shifting uncomfortably once more.

Fayne let her smile form as she rolled her eyes. "Bemarrin's a fool. His pocket has been lightened more so than it would have been if he would have bought you a simple trinket."

Fayne noticed Laela's demeanour change drastically as she belittled the paladin. No more was the elf holding her head high; she could barely maintain eye contact. As the warrior observed the other elf, she couldn't help but wonder how she had made it onto the list of volunteers chosen to go to Pandaria. She was short, clumsy, inexperienced and could barely hold her sword. Fayne quickly decided she had either annoyed Theron until he had agreed, or she slept with him. Shaking her head slowly, the warrior turned back to the direction she had originally been going.

"Wait!" A shrill voice rung out. Calming herself, Fayne half turned her body back towards the redhead. "Where's the uh, the inn?" Laela asked in a small voice as she stared at the dust-covered ground. "I need supplies."

The warrior narrowed her eyes. "Do I _look_ like a grunt to you? Use your feet and walk through the gate and ask someone whose job is to deal with incompetents like you!" Fayne barked, once more turning around. She confidently strode westwards, towards the dock that temporarily housed Theron's fleet.

As the watchtower and sea came into view, the warrior quickened her pace, eager to claim any remaining bunks left. She had spent enough week-long journeys sprawled on the cold, wet floor to know the importance of first-come, first-served.

Her plated feet finally hit the rickety boards of the dock, the loud _thunk thunk thunk_ of her boots on the wood being drowned out by the crashing waves and screeching gulls. She breathed deeply, revering in the fresh, salty air as she made her way around the docks. Ignoring the occasional splash of icy water, her eyes were peeled for the telltale Sin'dorei ship. Rounding a corner, she found it.

Standing out against all the bland, basic wood was quite a sight. The blood elves took prize in their work, blood and sweat being the main ingredient in any project they are apart of. The ship was no different; it was huge, and absolutely impeccable. Wood had been carved to resemble an almost eagle-like look. Swirls and columns had been painted red, gold and mahogany to give the boat the signature Sin'dorei feel. The masts all varied in shades and looked as if they were velvet to the touch. The deck was pristine and reflected the sun in a way that nearly blinded anyone who dared look down at it.

_Yes,_ Fayne thought. _This is definitely Theron's. _

As she handed her papers over to the guards that stood in front of the gangway, she once again studied the boat. It seemed that the warrior would never get over her fear of being on a ship, especially on long trips. It seemed nearly irrational for her to be afraid of something like sailing, but no matter how big a ship was, it was but a spec of dust when out in the open sea.

It took a hand waving in front of her face to realize she was approved to get on the ship. With a small nod, she took back her papers and clutched them in her plated hands as she wobbly sauntered up the gangplank. The boat rocked as the waves crashed against the dock, causing her to gasp in surprise and release a hand from the papers to grab onto the wet rope on her left.

Easing herself forward, her feet finally made contact with the deck, one after one. Shaking off her embarrassment, she quickly ducked through a doorway and down a flight of stairs to find the sleeping quarters.

To her utter surprise, the warrior found out that the ship had small staterooms instead of one large steerage. Each door had a name carved into it. She winded further around the boat, and down a few more stairs until she found hers.

Opening the door slowly, she found herself in a very small room that held nothing but two small wooden shelves, one for sleeping and one for storage, a trunk, two buckets, one which was filled with water, a set of keys, and a small porthole that let in the bare minimum amount of light possible.

Relieved that she had brought her own sleeping items, she shut the door and even locked it as a precaution. Setting down her bags and packs on the smaller wooden plank, Fayne rummaged through each one and unpacked whatever she knew she would be needing throughout the trip.

The warrior had thought and taken all her packs to a tailor and enchanter, who enchanted each one to not only give them more space (without looking like it did), but made everything that was in them feel nearly weightless _and_ shrunk them in size. It was pricey, but the blood elf was pleased she had thought of it before leaving.

Opening the smallest pack, she reached in and pulled out a miniature pillow and woolen blanket. The enchanter had told the warrior that she simply had to look at an item and use her mind to think of it as it's full size to get it to go back to it's regular form. In a blink of an eye, the large piece of fabric and the feather-stuffed pillow were at their full sizes.

"Impressive," the elf thought out loud, stunned. Fayne turned back to the small bag, pulling out a set of undercloth she used as sleepwear, a pair of leather booties, a hairbrush and comb, and a thin strip of leather. One by one, she brought them back to their regular sizes, and set them out on the wooden plank.

Changing out of her heavy plate, she figured it would be safe enough on the ship to walk around in her leather breeches and linen shirt. The warrior had, of course, daggers hidden around the fabric, just in case. Using the smaller key on the keyring, she locked away her prized armour, shield and sword, along with her bags in the trunk.

Before leaving, she turned around once more and prepped herself for the long journey by taking in her home for the next few weeks. Forcing herself to smile, the warrior opened the door, locked it, and deposited her keys into her woolen bra before heading back up onto the deck.

* * *

**Finally, another update. I'm sorry for the long wait (if anyone has even read this, lol), I have been busy and honestly could not, for the life of me, think of something to write.**

** I also adjusted to using terms more than names, if you have noticed, to address characters. I got so sick of starting every sentence with "Fayne" and figured other people would too.**

**This one's a bit short, but it's more of a filler/transition chapter in order to set it up for the next week chapters ahead. **

**I hope you enjoyed it! **


	3. Chapter 2: Goran the Arrogant

By the time she had made her way back to the deck, the sun had began to set and Fayne found herself in a group of sweaty, smelly adventurers: Orcs, trolls, blood elves, the whole lot. She could nearly smell the testosterone in the air as she inhaled deeply, feeling suffocated in the crowd.

Politely shoving her way through the tall crowd, the blood elf made it to the back of the poop deck, where only a few others stood. She received glances from these people, as the warrior was clad in nothing but her leather undercloth.

"Do we have everyone?" A voice bellowed somewhere ahead of the crowd, quieting everyone speaking in a millisecond.

"Aye, everyone is accounted for," another voice replied, the warrior's ears angling to the right where the noise came from. The blood elf secretly hoped Laela would have been left behind to fend for herself in Orgrimmar.

"Splendid. Well then, everyone. I will make this as brief as possible. I, am Lor'themar Theron, Ranger General of Silvermoon City. As you all know, you are here because you have chosen to. I want this trip to be as short and bland as possible. Fighting, loud voices, and general rowdiness will not be prohibited on this ship. Get along with each other; we are all here to fight together, not make enemies with each other.

"Meals will be served in the messhall. They will be served four times a day: sunrise, noon, sunset and midnight. You do not have to attend each meal if you do not wish to. Do not be a pig; only take what you will eat.

"You all have been assigned rooms for the duration of the trip. Do not all rush down as soon as I'm done speaking, or their will be unnecessary injuries. Find your name on a door and leave whatever you wish in there. It is expected that you clean up after yourself, and keep your room tidy. If and when we are about to reach land, you should be packed up and ready to leave. If you leave something behind, or you leave _yourself_ behind, it is staying on this ship and going back to Eversong. I expect you all to behave like the soldiers you are. I will not tolerate any childishness. Am I understood?"

The blood elf watched the crowd nod, and a few verbally reply, as she assumed Theron left to go back to his quarters. She debated going back to her own room, but ultimately decided that now was the best time to explore, as the majority of the others were tripping over themselves to find their rooms. Turning to her left, she chose another doorway and cautiously made her way down the steps.

Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she found herself standing in the doorway of what looked to be the sickbay. There were beds set up with tables and candle by each, along with a wall of shelving full of gauze, herbs, and other medical instruments and supplies.

Continuing down the hall, she found the saloon. A few others were down there already, speaking together, reading, or playing cards. She slowly made her way inside the large room as a few heads turned in her direction.

"Hey, Blondie, come here," a blood elf said to her in Thalassian as he gestured her over with a finger. He was slender, covered head to toe in black dyed leather, two huge daggers secured to his waist that seemed to be dripping with some sort of green liquid. His dark hair was cut short, and the lower half of his face was covered with a mask. From what Fayne could see, he had a large scar travelling diagonally down the side of his, nearly identical to her own. His eyes were narrowed as he stared at her.

"I have a name, you know," the warrior quipped as she slunk toward the man. He was sitting with another blood elf, one dressed in a bright red garb and a pointy hat to match. This one looked a lot friendlier as he eyed her in consideration.

"Nice dress, firehead," she muttered to him as she pulled out a wooden chair and dropped down onto it. The rogue laughed heartily as the mage's mouth morphed into a deep frown.

"So, Blondie, what's a pretty little thing like you doing on this boat?" The rogue growled in what Fayne assumed was supposed to be a sexy sort of tone. She turned her head to look him directly in the eyes, to which he wagged his eyebrows at her.

The warrior narrowed her eyes. "My name is not "Blondie," daggerbrain," she snapped, causing wrinkles to form under his eyes. _The cheeky little bastard is smiling!_ Fayne realized. The rogue laughed once more, tilting his entire body backwards, along with his head, and rested his hand on his stomach as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard in his entire existence on Azeroth.

"Alright, babydoll, calm down," he finally said as she stared frighteningly at him. "The name's Goran Dragonslayer. And you are?" He raised an eyebrow at her as he extended a hand. Throwing her hair over one shoulder and crossing her arms against her chest, she leaned back in her chair.

"Fayne Sunfeather," she muttered, looking away as if anything else in the room was more interesting than the arrogant man in front of her.

"Sunfeather... Faynestra, I presume?" He replied, a hint of shock in his voice.

The warrior rolled her eyes. "Wow, how did you know?" She retorted in the same way he had just spoken. To her utter horror, he simply laughed again. "We got a feisty one on our hands, Helas!" The rogue roared happily as he stood up and slapped both hands onto the table. Fayne looked back to him, finding him leaned over the table, his face inches from hers.

"On your hands? Who said I wanted to associate myself with you? You're just another pawn in this deadly game of chess. I don't need another person to look after, no wait, _two_ others to look after," the blood elf flashed, standing up to meet his height. "I am here for my own purposes. I look after no one but myself, understood?" With that, the rogue stood up to his full height as well, the wrinkles beside his eyes returning as he smiled behind the mask.

"Listen, sweetcheeks, there's no reason to blow up on me like that. I was merely being friendly-" he started, before getting interrupted by the she-elf.

"I didn't ask you to be friendly. I don't want you to be friendly. I came down here hoping to find some piece and quiet to read, and sadly _you_ were in my way." The rogue's smile only grew wider. "Alright, alright! I'll leave you alone. Just remember, if you ever get lonely, Goran's only a shout away," he winked. The warrior had to stop herself from punching him in the face.

"Arrogant prick!" She hissed, shoving her chair back to make room to leave. As she passed him, she made sure to knock her shoulder into his roughly. Stomping her way to the other side of the room, she grabbed the first book she saw off of the shelf and dropped into a chair, making sure her back was towards the the rogue and his friend.

As she skimmed through the most boring book she had ever picked up, she became aware of the fact the boat was rocking. It seemed they had finally set sail, presumably at nightfall. As her eyes continued to jump from word to word on the pages, her ears picked up not so quite chatter. As the rogue's deep voice reached her ears, the she-elf discovered he was speaking about _her_!

"I wonder when was the last time she got laid. In my own experience I've learned that sexually frustrated females tend to get like that around someone as attractive as me," the arrogance evident in his voice. "I think it's some sort of weird female mating thing, but I know she'll come crawling back to me soon."

Shutting her book loudly, the warrior stood up and turned to face the rogue. He had looked up at her after the commotion, feigning shock. Her face contorted into one of pure rage as she advanced towards him, her hands in fists by her sides. Sensing her anger, he grinned.

He no longer had the mask on, she remarked. Dislodging the new sight from her mind, Fayne reached Goran's position. He had stood up as she was approaching, ready to defend himself.

"Can I help you with something, Blondie?" He replied cheekily, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he saw how pissed the little elf was. She lunged at him then, her nails going straight for his face.

"Whoa there, tiger! That's no way to treat a gentlemen," Goran laughed as he grabbed her and held her against his chest. Her feet were off of the ground at this point, and she thrashed in his grasp. She managed to free one hand and proceeded to slug him in the face with it.

Catching the hand before the warrior could do it again, he trapped her tighter against himself and looked down at her, chuckling. Fayne felt his chest vibrated from his laughter and thrashed again, this time attempting to use her teeth against him.

"Babydoll, are you this wild in bed?" He asked, howling in laughter as she thrashed with all her might. She finally got out of his hold, dropping to her feet. In an instant, her foot was rocketing towards the object lying between his legs.

Before he could defend himself, her foot came into sharp contact with his dick, causing him to wheeze out in pain and drop to his knees, hands on crotch. The rogue then fell into the fetal position, still clutching his now throbbing man-parts.

_Hmph-_ing, Fayne collected herself and left the saloon, heading back to her chambers.

_Now that I know I'm sharing a space with people like _him_, I'm not leaving that damned room until we reach land_, the blood elf decided angrily.

* * *

**I've had to re-edit this in the doc manager about 6 times now. It just keeps crashing after I hit save. Oh well. This is just another short one to introduce a few characters.**


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